


Be my mistake

by Hangmans_Radio



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alcohol Addiction, Angst, Brian Needs a Hug, Cheating, Everyone Needs A Hug, Frottage, Gerard needs a hug, I need a hug, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Depression, References to anxiety, angst angst angst, but there is a light at the end of this tunnel, drug misuse, everyone is a mess and no one is happy, oh and sex, so much angst I mean it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 19:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hangmans_Radio/pseuds/Hangmans_Radio
Summary: Based off Be My Mistake by The 1975.On a dual tour with The Used, Gerard tumbles down the rabbit hole of sex, booze and pills. Whilst he self-destructs, Frank is away taking care of his sick mother. But when he returns to the tour to discover that Gerard has been unfaithful, the real trouble begins.





	Be my mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KinksterSinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinksterSinner/gifts).



> So I bet y'all didn't think I'd be back with an angst-fest huh? 
> 
> This was a request fic from KinksterSinner - my darling, I am so sorry this has taken so long. Like, actually four months. FOUR MONTHS. Gosh I am sorry. It's not entirely everything you asked for - try as I might I couldn't squeeze in angry sex - but I hope it's still something like you wanted. 
> 
> It's been a while since I've written some honest-to-God angst, and it doesn't come so easily these days (yay for being a moderately adjusted adult), but I did my best. 
> 
> Please heed the tags, and as ever, this is pure fiction and does not in any way attempt to reflect people's real life experiences.

Gerard’s hands were trembling, so much so that he couldn’t hold his lighter steady enough for the flame to catch the end of his cigarette. He huffed impatiently, desperately trying to ignite the tobacco, when a passing roadie suddenly did it for him. 

“Oh, th - thanks-” Gerard tried to express his gratitude, but the guy was already walking away, lugging cases of instruments behind him.

A strange, sinking feeling filled the hollowness in Gerard’s stomach for a moment. He didn’t know the man. He didn’t know anyone on the road with them, other than the band of course, and yet he felt absurdly guilty. As if he had done something wrong.

_He had done something wrong_. But not to the roadie.

Gerard inhaled smoke deep into his lungs, his trembling getting worse. He wasn’t sure anymore if the shakes were from the withdrawal, or the anxiety, or the mountains of caffeine he was hoping would fill the bottle shaped hole inside himself. 

He wished Frank was there. He wished for it with all of his being. He ached for him, really _ached_ , like he had been bruised all over. The whole band was lost without him, and Gerard just simply had no more strength to go on stage every night without him. 

“Hey, there you are.” Gerard turned to see Bert approaching him, and his stomach gave a funny little double flip. He sucked greedily on his cigarette, hoping it would calm him down in the few seconds it took for Bert to reach him. 

“Everyone’s been wondering about you, you disappeared so fast. Did you even wait for the bus to stop before you got off it?” Bert was grinning playfully, the look so familiar and warm that Gerard relaxed just a little. 

“I just needed to get some fresh air.” He muttered, fishing his pack of smokes from his pocket and tapped one out of the pack. Bert accepted it without question and leaned in close so Gerard could light it for him. “I’m just going stir crazy in that bus.”

“Mm, it’s ironic isn’t it.” Bert inhaled deep and then blew a ribbon of smoke up into the air. “I swear, touring in a van was never as difficult as being in those buses. It’s like… You have more room, _technically_ , but you feel even more claustrophobic.”

Gerard nodded his agreement, glad that someone else actually _got it_. 

The van days had been fun. Sure, it wasn’t glamorous - five guys bundled into a transit, stinking to high heaven after days of not showering; living off whatever junk they could get at the gas stations - but back then the excitement of being on the road got them through it all. And it was sort of nice, sleeping in a big heap in the back, as uncomfortable and freezing cold as it sometimes was.

But the tour buses… Gerard glanced at them then, parked some distance away. He despised them. His bunk felt like a coffin, and the promise of extra space and privacy was just an illusion. The space was all filled up with cupboards and couches, instruments and games consoles, and privacy was impossible to get when every time you tried to walk anyway, you had to sidle past a dozen other people.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Bert’s words pulled Gerard out of his thoughts, dropping him back into the moment. Bert was watching him, his cool blue eyes full of sympathy. 

Gerard’s pale cheeks went pink and his stomach started to swirl. He began to feel nauseous, so that he couldn’t even finish his cigarette. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his boot. 

“Yeah.” He said gruffly, his voice coming out thick and upset. 

“Oh Gee.” Bert was suddenly on him, folding him into his arms in a tight but gentle hug. “He’s gonna be fine ya know?” He reminded him, rubbing his back with one hand whilst the other cradled the nape of Gerard’s neck. 

“I know.” Gerard sniffed, wrapping his arms around Bert’s waist and sinking into him. He couldn’t help it. It felt so good to be held and comforted, when everything inside of him seemed to be turning to shit. 

Things had been pretty bad before Frank left. The after show parties were getting a bit too frequent, and Gerard’s drinking even more so… When Frank got the news that his mom was really sick, he had left the tour without hesitation. No one blamed him, it was the right thing to do, but deep down Gerard thought that Frank had even been relieved of an excuse to go for a while.

Not that he could blame him about that either.

Gerard had resolved himself, after a day or two of drinking himself into oblivion, to pack it all in and be better. He _needed_ to be better. He didn’t want to become some stupid rockstar cliche the moment the band started to hit it big - which was exactly what he _was_ doing. He needed to set the example that the others could follow - to be sober, and clean, and healthy… And then when Frank came back, things would be good. _Great_ even.

“I know what will cheer you up.” Bert pulled out of the hug suddenly and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small tobacco tin and opened it up to reveal an array of multicoloured pills. He offered the tin to Gerard, eyes twinkling. “These are great, they’ll take your mind off it for a few hours.”

Gerard blinked stupidly, staring into the tin. He hadn’t drank a thing for two whole days, and he hadn’t taken any drugs for three. But the going cold-turkey was taking its toll, and God, he hadn’t realised just how tempting a pill could look until that moment.

_Say no_ , the voice in his head told him firmly. But he was already reaching into the tin. 

“I was trying to give it up.” He said softly as he scooped up two pale pink ones in the shape of love hearts and looked at them on the tip of his fingers. 

“We’ll start cutting down.” Bert promised, gathering up a green and a blue for himself. “First thing tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Gerard agreed, and sucked the pills onto his tongue where he let them dissolve, as sweet as sugar.

 

*

 

“How was the show?” Frank’s voice was as warm and familiar as a favourite blanket, wrapping around Gerard and soothing the itch that was building under his skin. 

“Yeah good.” He said in a rush, rubbing a hand over his sweaty face. They had left the stage an hour ago, but he was still damp and shaking, his adrenaline taking forever to fizzle away. He felt sick and headachey, and _God_ how he wanted a drink. 

“How’s your mom?”

“Much better.” Gerard could hear the smile in Frank’s voice. “If she keeps improving she’ll be allowed home by the end of the week, but I think I’ll stick around and just help her out for a while. If… If that’s okay?” Frank was feeling unbearably guilty about leaving the tour. He wanted to be on stage with the guys, he really did, but it was sort of nice being home too. Even under such circumstances.

“You stay as long as you need to Frankie.” Gerard said firmly, even as his nausea increased, worsened by the knowledge that Frank wasn’t going to be back soon. “We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” Frank was listening carefully to Gerard’s voice, trying to work out just how okay he really was. When he had left, Gerard had been drunk so often that Frank couldn’t really remember how he sounded sober. He had been getting pretty bad himself, but now he was home he wasn’t drinking a drop, and his mind was clear.

“Yeah.” Gerard repeated, still rubbing at his face. “Yeah… We’ll be fine…”

“Okay…” Frank didn’t sound sure, but he didn’t push it. Gerard didn’t sound drunk, but he didn’t sound well either. “So, how are you doing? Like… Personally?” He asked softly. 

Gerard swallowed thickly and tried to steady his voice before he spoke again. “I’m fine.” He said as cheerfully as he could manage whilst his stomach was roiling. “Just missing you Frankie.”

“Oh Gee, I miss you too.” Frank’s voice was full of feeling, open and honest and bruised. “I can’t even tell you how much… I wish you were here so bad. I’m dying to kiss you.” The giggle that followed was high-pitched and playful, so familiar it brought a lump to Gerard’s throat.

“Me too Frankie.” Gerard tried to laugh as well, but it came out more like a sob. “I’m so lost without you here… I can’t -” Gerard cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose and then digging his fingers into the corners of his eyes to stop himself from welling up. 

“Gee?” Frank’s voice was hushed and full of anxiety. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing. Nothing is going on.” Gerard was feeling more and more sick by the second, How could he possibly tell Frank. _How could he possibly?_ “I’m just… I’m just a little queasy, I think I need to go and lie down.”

“Gee-” Frank tried to stop him from hanging up, but Gerard really was about to vomit. 

“I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow Frankie, I’m sorry, bye-”

“Gee! Gee?” Frank huffed when he heard the dial tone and he sighed, whispering the _I love you_ to himself.

 

*

 

Gerard stumbled and fell, his palms grazing against the rough asphalt. He swayed on his hands and knees for a moment and then collapsed completely, letting his cheek scrape along the road. 

“Gee!” Bert wasn’t too far away, but it took him forever to reach Gerard thanks to how hard he was laughing. “You’re fucking crazy man!” 

Gerard tried to grin but his face was too mashed into the ground. He made no attempt to move himself. His body was too heavy and he had no strength left in his limbs. 

“Bert…” Gerard was slurring his words so much that Bert’s name sounded more like _’blerghh’_ , but Bert just laughed as he carefully rolled Gerard onto his back. 

“There you are.” Bert was grinning, his long black hair hanging like a curtain past his cheeks. His eyes were bright and dazed, more pupil than blue iris. 

“Here I am.” Gerard slurred, grinning just as wide as Bert and showing off his little teeth. He had some gravel stuck to his cheek and Bert brushed it away with his fingers, then let his thumb linger close to Gerard’s lips. “Where are we?”

“Fuck if I know.” Bert giggled again - the sound high-pitched and hysterical - and tried to help Gerard onto his feet.

The two men were both too high to care much about being in the middle of the road, and too drunk to have the strength to move easily. Bert made an attempt to yank Gerard’s arm over his shoulders and hoist him up, but when Gerard leaned into him it sent them both crashing back down again.

Bert laughed loud and Gerard groaned, but he did chuckle a little. 

They both gave up on trying to move out of the road and instead lay side by side, looking up at the stars above their heads. Bert was talking shit about constellations or a whale in the sky or something, and Gerard was thinking about how Frank was pretty and sparkly like the stars. 

In the end it was Brian Schechter, as it so often was, who came to retrieve them and drag them both back to the buses. 

He dropped them in a heap on the sofa in The Used’s bus, and tried to lecture them both on taking things too far. But Gerard passed out the second his head hit a pillow, and Bert only grinned stupidly until Brian sighed and stormed away.

 

*

 

Gerard woke up to a hangover that was entirely expected but no less painful for it. It took him a moment to realise where he was; undoubtedly a tour bus, but not the one he was used to. He blinked hard and looked around, and gradually realised it must be The Used’s.

As if on cue, Bert appeared with a plate of toast and some orange juice. It was clear that he hadn’t been awake for long either, but he didn’t look anywhere near as bad as Gerard felt. 

“Hey sleepy head.” Bert sat down on the couch, lifting Gerard’s legs to let him in and then dropping them onto his lap again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit with a truck.” Gerard groaned, pressing his hands over his eyes to try and blot out the sun coming through the windows. “What time is it?”

“Just after three.” Bert offered Gerard a slice of toast but he waved it away. “The others are all checking out the venue. Mikey dropped in to see you but he left again. Said he didn’t want to wake you.”

Immediately, the guilt that was never too far away began to nibble at Gerard again. He hated to think of Mikey coming to find him, only to discover he was passed out after another night of taking things too far. Especially after he had promised himself to stop all this nonsense. 

“Fuck.” Gerard cursed, rubbing at his eyes to try and dull the headache that was throbbing behind them. “Fucking… Fuck.”

“Eloquent.” Bert ate a slice of toast and drank half of the orange juice. He offered the rest to Gerard, but he only shook his head again. 

“You should at least drink the orange,” Bert told him as firmly as he could muster, “it will make you feel better.”

“No it won’t.” Gerard groaned as he rolled to the side, trying to find the energy to swing his legs off the couch and get up. “Fuck, my head is throbbing.”

“Well dehydration won’t help.” Bert had been doing this shit far longer than Gerard had, and he was getting better at picking himself up the next day. Although… He didn’t take things quite as far as Gee did, so he supposed he should cut him some slack. 

“Do you want some aspirin?” Bert got to his feet to find whatever painkillers they might have lying around. 

“Don’t you have anything stronger?” Gerard asked, groaning as he planted his feet on the floor and bowed between his legs. “Like a shotgun?”

Bert cracked a wry smile and shook his head. He stood on tiptoe to drag the first aid box off the top of the kitchen unit and pulled out a box of aspirin. He popped two and brought them over to Gerard with a fresh glass of juice. 

“Here.” He pushed them right into Gerard’s mouth, using his thumb to get them onto his tongue. “Swallow.” He said firmly, and then handed Gerard the glass once he had done as he was told. “I think you’re right. You need to slow down with all this stuff.”

Gerard glared up at Bert, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. Of all the people who deserved to say that to him, Bert was the furthest down the list. 

“You mean this stuff you keep offering me?”

Bert held his hands up in mock surrender, shrugging innocently. “Fair enough, you’re not wrong.” He conceded, and Gerard was stunned to see the amount of concern in his eyes. “I’m just saying… If you’re serious about giving it all up then… I support you.” 

“Thanks.” Gerard gulped down the orange juice and then put his head back between his knees. He wasn’t sure he really believed that Bert would stop handing him drugs. Wasn’t sure Bert even _could_ stop. He was just as hooked as Gerard was, and it’s always better to drag yourself to hell when you have a friend along for the ride.

“Listen Gee,” Bert was suddenly on his knees, his hands pressed to Gerard’s thighs as he tried to make him meet his gaze, “we’re only on this tour together for a short time. And I really, _really_ like you. I wanna make the most of it - I wanna _remember_ it. Don’t you?”

Gerard blinked slowly and then peeked up at Bert through his eyelashes. His stomach did that weird flippy thing it so often did when Bert looked at him like that, and he bit his lip as he nodded. 

“Y - Yeah, I do.”

“So we agree then? No more drugs?” Bert was staring intently at Gerard, his blue eyes so open and earnest that it made Gerard melt. 

“Okay.” He whispered, barely even needing to think. “Okay, no more drugs.”

Bert grinned and without thinking he stretched up to press his lips to Gerard’s. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it was the first time Gerard didn’t push him away. He couldn’t help himself, Bert kissed him so soft and slow, and he pulled away before Gerard could tell him to stop.

 

*

 

The hardest thing about going sober, Gerard decided, was trying to give up too much at once. It seemed to make perfect sense that he should focus on giving up the drugs _first_ and then give up the alcohol after. Drinking was hardly an issue after all, he could stop any time he wanted.

The second he got off stage there was a bottle waiting for him, and he drank deeply from it with little thought to what was actually inside. It was clearly alcohol, and that was all he needed to know. It burned on it’s way down, and settled some of his violent shaking. 

“Gee!” Mikey fell into him as they all crowded into their dressing room, dripping with sweat and pumped full of adrenaline. “Oh my God, that show was so _good!_ ” Mikey took the bottle out of Gerard’s hand and tipped his head back with it held to his lips. Up this close, Gerard could see his brothers Adams apple working as he gulped and gulped.

“Fuck yeah it was.” Gerard was buzzing with excitement, still jittery after hearing the way the crowd roared for them. It was one of the best shows they had played in what felt like ages, certainly the best they had played since Frank had been gone. 

“We need to celebrate!” Mikey announced once he finished sucking on the neck of the bottle. “Hotel rooms!”

“Oh God yes.” Ray groaned at the thought, ruffling a towel over his wet hair. “Where’s Brian? _Brian!?_ ” He yelled, and just like that, Schechter appeared in the doorway. 

“Brian! We want hotel rooms tonight!” Mikey beamed at their manager, still dangling off Gerard’s neck with one arm, whilst the other flailed around. “We deserve it, right!?”

“We’re already forking out thousands of dollars for the bus.” Brian grumbled, but he had to admit the show had been incredible, and he was in a good enough mood that he soon relented. “But you can _share_ rooms.” He said firmly, wagging a finger at them. 

“Dibs I’m with Gee!” Mikey beamed, passing the bottle back to him. “Ray can share with Bob!” 

“Fuck that, I’m staying on the bus.” Bob scoffed from his corner of the room. “I can finally get a full night’s sleep without having to listen to any of you fuckers snoring.”

“Guess I’ll have to take my own room, that works for me.” Ray grinned, leaning back on the couch with a smug grin. 

Unsurprisingly, bickering then broke out over who actually deserved to have their own room. 

Gerard, who was merely grateful that he would get a proper bed to sleep on, kept out of it. In the end, Brian put his foot down and declared that they should just flip a coin. 

“Or-” A soft voice purred from the doorway, “I can share with Gee, and Mikey and Ray can share.”

Everyone turned to look at Bert who was grinning in at them all, equally as sweaty from the stage. “I’ll even pay half towards the room.” He added, and that settled it. 

“Done.” Brian nodded, clicking his fingers and walking to the door. “I’ll go book the rooms.”

Bert grinned at Gerard, who immediately blushed. He waited for Mikey to complain and say that _he_ had wanted to bunk with Gerard, but his little brother was too busy still fake wrestling with Ray to even bother. 

“What about the rest of The Used?” Gerard asked uncertainly as Bert sauntered over to him. “Won’t they want rooms as well?”

“They want rooms, they can pay for them.” Bert shrugged, taking the bottle from Gerard’s hand and downing a mouthful. “Why? Got a problem sharing with me?” He asked, making Gerard’s blush rise even higher .

“Of course not.” He whispered, and his stomach did it’s usual flip when Bert’s eyes sparkled in return.

 

*

 

The best thing about sleeping in hotel rooms, was that they could shower first.

Gerard hadn’t showered in four days, and it was only when he stepped under the warm spray of water that he realised just how disgusting he was.

The bathroom door opened as he was soaping down his body for the second time, but he was so relaxed that he didn’t care. The hot water made the pleasant alcohol induced buzz beneath his skin increase to near drunkenness, and he swayed slightly as he rubbed the free hotel soap into his skin.

“You gonna be long in there?” Bert asked from the other side of the curtain, and Gerard heard the unmistakable clink of a studded belt being opened and dropped to the floor. “Because I am going to die if I don’t get to wash soon.”

Gerard snorted and shrugged. His muscles felt like they were singing, the warm water felt so good, and he was tempted to simply spend the night in the shower. 

“I am never getting out.” He groaned, closing his eyes when his vision became too hazy. He tipped his head back to rest on the tiled wall behind him, his hands rubbing slowly over his chest now. He swirled his thumb curiously over one nipple and bit his lip when it felt so good. “You’ll have to prise me out with a crowbar.”

“Or,” Bert scoffed, his voice muffled as he wrestled his shirt over his head, “I could just join you.”

Barely a heartbeat later, he appeared around the shower curtain, naked and tacky with drying sweat. He stepped into the shower, crowding Gerard against the wall so he could get under the water. 

Gerard whined in protest, but only because the parts of him that came out from beneath the spray went instantly cold. 

“Noo, this shower is not big enough for the two of us.” He complained. 

“Then get out.” Bert smirked, grabbing the mini bottle of soap and squeezing a health dollop onto his hands. “Fuuuuck - this shit smells great.” 

The soap was cheap and pineapple scented, but after so long of smelling of stale sweat and beer, it was like the world’s sweetest perfume. Bert lathered it over his body, working up bubbles and making obscene noises of pleasure as he scraped days worth of grime from his body.

Gerard was not about to give up on his own shower, but he also didn’t want to kick Bert out. On tour, a shower was the greatest luxury, and he wasn’t going to take that away from the man now he was finally getting cleaned up.

“Hey,” Bert turned to rinse the suds away and then picked up the soap for another round, “if you wash my back I’ll wash yours.” He flashed Gerard a cheeky grin and turned so his back was to him.

Gerard was momentarily distracted by Bert’s small but rather peachy backside, but he soon gathered himself and accepted the near empty bottle of soap. He tipped it upside down and let it drizzle out onto his palm, then obediently got to work soaping Bert’s back.

Bert made a soft, throaty sort of noise that sent shivers down Gerard’s spine, and leaned back into his hands. 

“You were amazing tonight Gee.” He said softly, his voice a little husky as Gerard worked his hands slowly over the contours of his shoulder blades. “The way you work the crowd… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Gerard’s cheeks went pink and he resisted the urge to brush the compliment away. Instead he simply shrugged and mumbled ‘thanks’, concentrating more on cleaning Bert’s back.

“I’m serious.” Bert went on, undeterred. “You’re like a different person on stage. Like… You’re so sweet and shy normally, then you get up there and you turn into this like… Fuck, this _rockstar_ and you just have the whole crowd eating out of your hand-”

“It’s not like that.” Gerard cut him off, starting to feel uncomfortable as he shook his head. “It’s not. I just go out and sing the songs-”

“Gerard Way.” Bert turned around to glare at Gerard, pressing his hands to his shoulders. “You do not just go out and sing. Any idiot with a voice can do that. You go out there and you… You _save lives_ man.”

Gerard flinched as if he had been struck, shaking his head with more vigour. A recent magazine article about the band had said something similar, and all of a sudden Gerard was being hailed like some sort of saviour. He hated it. His own life was such a fucking mess, how could anyone look at him and hope that he could be a hero to them?

“I’m really not-”

Bert didn’t let Gerard finish. He cupped his hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a hot, wet kiss. 

Gerard didn’t even try to fight it. It was like he had been waiting for this ever since Bert had first suggested sharing a room together. He melted into it instead, leaning into Bert beneath the spray of the shower and wrapped his arms around him.

Encouraged, Bert slipped his arms around Gerard’s neck and tangled his fingers into his wet hair. He tugged him in close and opened his mouth beneath his, inviting Gerard’s tongue to explore behind his teeth. He tasted strongly of vodka, so strong that Bert felt like he could get drunk just off of Gerard’s kisses. 

It had been weeks and weeks since Gerard had been kissed so hungrily. Bert’s tongue pushed into his mouth and his hands tugged at his hair, until they were both stumbling against the shower wall and almost slipping over in their haste to widen their legs and find a way to slot against one another.

Gerard eventually managed to get his thigh between Bert’s legs and he groaned when he felt how hard he was already. Up until that moment their mostly chaste kisses could have been considered innocent - except of course for the after party where they had spent several hours making out, hot and heavy in a back room, that had sparked Gerard’s first attempt to get clean - but now there really was no denying the chemistry that had been growing between them.

Gerard had been aware of it ever since the tour had begun, and no doubt Bert had too. It had been okay at first, easy to ignore, when Frank was around. But then Frank had gone and really, Gerard had been hurtling to the point of no return ever since.

“Wanna suck your cock.” Bert suddenly growled into Gerard’s ear, bringing him back into the moment with a bump. “Fuck, let me Gee, let me, let me, let me-” He went on chanting as he dropped gracefully to his knees, right there in the bathtub.

Gerard stared down at him, drunk and a little delirious, mouth hanging open. He was panting already, and his lips tingled where Bert had been kissing him. He hadn’t realised just how hard he had become, and even then he couldn’t feel it so much as he was seeing it.

He was embarrassingly erect, his cock lifted enthusiastically towards his navel. Apparently his dick had got with the program a hell of a lot faster than Gerard’s brain. 

He supposed he should stop Bert, quick before it was too late. All he had to do was say one word, and it would grind to a halt.

_Frank_.

Gerard tried to make his mouth work, but in the end all that came out was a long, desperate moan when Bert swallowed his cock passed his lips without warning. He had a sinfully hot mouth, and his enthusiasm was such that he had Gerard pressed down the back of his throat within seconds. 

“H - Holy _fuck_ -” Gerard practically collapsed against the wall behind him, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wet tiles as Bert swallowed around him and bobbed his head. “Fuck, oh fuck, fuck-”

Bert hummed his approval, spurred on by Gerard’s inelegant cursing. He pulled back and swirled his tongue around the tip, tasting the first bitter drops of precum, and then swallowed him down again. 

He had been thinking about doing this for what felt like forever, but they were both too drunk to think about going slow or savouring it. At this point it was pure heat and hunger; Bert sucked and lapped his tongue over Gerard, whilst one hand stroked his base to get him off quickly, and Gerard thrust his hips eagerly to help him along. 

It was only the fact that there was so much alcohol coursing through his blood that Gerard held on as long as he did. He hadn’t got off since Frank had left, not even by his own hand, and right then Bert’s willing mouth was all he needed to get him there. 

The vodka was making his orgasm simmer under his skin, tingling away but refusing to rise any more. Gerard huffed in frustration, his fingers twitching on the wall as he whined and his cock throbbed. But then Bert brushed a finger behind his balls and teased against his hole and Gerard came, hard and heavy, right into Bert’s waiting mouth.

Bert moaned with relief and lifted both hands to Gerard’s hips, holding him still so he could swallow his release down. He seemed to cum forever, filling Bert’s mouth until he pulled back and let the last couple of pulses spill over his cheeks and chin.

Gerard stared down at him, his eyes so blurry he could barely make him out anymore. He swayed dangerously and Bert reacted quickly, catching him before he could fall and helping him sit down in the tub. 

“Fuck, that was so hot, you’re so fucking hot Gee.” As soon as Gerard was safely sat against the wall, Bert knelt before him and gripped his aching erection. He could see that Gerard was no good to anyone right then, so he got himself off with quick, perfunctory tugs to his cock.

Gerard watched with mild amazement as Bert jerked himself off and soon came over his own fingers, his cock twitching heavily in his fist. He was licking his lips and moaning, and Gerard wished he wasn’t so drunk so he could reciprocate properly.

As the evidence of Bert’s climax washed down the drain, and their orgasms simmered down to a not-all-that-sweet afterglow, the two men helped one another out of the shower and into the fluffy towels provided by the hotel.

Brian had booked everyone twin rooms, but Bert had already pushed the beds together. Gerard stared at them, a vaguely uncomfortable feeling twisting through his stomach, but he was too drunk to decipher it or care much at all. All he wanted right then was to sleep.

They towelled off quickly and when Bert got into bed naked, Gerard did the same. 

The beds were nothing special, but after months of being on the road, they could have been made of clouds they felt so soft and wonderful. Gerard snuggled happily under the duvet, and didn’t even mind when Bert snuggled up behind him and hooked his arms around him.

“Love you Gee.” Bert sighed, kissing the back of his neck.

Gerard didn’t answer. He was already asleep.

 

*

 

The harsh buzz of a vibrating phone woke Gerard from the best sleep he had had in ages. It took him a moment to come to, his eyelids heavy and his brain struggling to get into traction.

He had fallen asleep with his phone in his hand, and it took him a moment to find it where it had ended up pressed between the head of the mattress and the wall. He dug it out with his fingers, and had just enough time to see that he had several missed calls before he jabbed the answer button and weakly balanced the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?”

“There you are!” Frank sounded equal parts relieved and pissed off. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour now, where are you?”

“Huh? M’in bed.” Gerard rubbed his eyes roughly with the heel of his hand and then tried to make out the numbers on the analogue clock on the nightstand. His eyes were blurry from sleep, but he could see that it was passed midday. “M’still in the hotel…”

Behind him, Bert began to stir, yawning and wriggling closer. His arm was heavy and warm where it was hanging over Gerard’s hip, and when he shoved in close, Gerard felt the tip of his cock nudging at the curve of his backside. 

“-so I thought I’d get it at three. Are you listening to me?” 

“Hm? Sorry Frankie, say that again.” Gerard scowled and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on Frank’s voice and not the way Bert was now slowly rubbing his erection into the crease between his cheeks. “What about three?”

“My _plane_ Gee.” Frank said impatiently, clearly annoyed that Gerard hadn’t been paying attention. “I wanted an earlier flight but Brian’s being shitty about the air fare. It’s cheaper in the afternoon so I’m thinking of flying in at three.” Frank paused a beat, his silence pregnant with anticipation. “Okay?”

“Uh… Y - Yeah. Yeah that’s…” Gerard shook his head vigorously, trying to remember if they had already had a conversation about Frank coming back to the tour. “You… So you’re on your way… tomorrow?”

“Today, Gee.” Frank was sounding more and more upset. “Don’t you remember, we discussed this yesterday?”

“Of course I remember.” Gerard lied, his heart racing with panic. He tried to shove Bert away from him but he was like a dead weight… well, a dead weight with an insistent erection that was still bumping against him. “So you’re back today, that’s great Frankie, I can’t wait!”

“Uhuh, sure.” Frank’s tone was dripping with disappointment. “So excited you forgot all about it. Nice, Gee.” 

“I didn’t forget.” Gerard tried to insist, finally untangling himself from Bert’s grip so he could jump out of bed. “I didn’t, I just… lost track of days.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen when you’re always drunk.” 

“I - what?” Gerard paused with one foot in his underwear. “I’m not… I’m not drunk.”

“You’re not the only person I call you know.” Frank sighed, and Gerard could hear the sadness in his voice, transmitted perfectly over hundreds of miles thanks to the miracle of technology. “Mikey’s been really worried about you. And Ray is worried about you _and_ Mikey. It sounds like things have been getting pretty heavy over there… and considering how heavy it was when I left, it can’t be good.”

Gerard opened his mouth to try and protest, but he really didn’t know what to say. Things _had_ been heavy, and alcohol wasn’t even half of it… Ever since that first night in the hotel with Bert, they had been finding their way into each other’s arms (and pants) more times than he could even count. This was now their fourth hotel stay, and what had started as a drunken blowjob in the shower had escalated into something… exciting and terrifying and… _Heavy_.

“Frankie, I-”

“Look, we can talk about it when I get there.” Frank heaved a long sigh. Gerard noticed that he sounded exhausted. “Just… I’ve really missed you, ya know?” 

“I’ve missed you too.” Gerard could at least say that quickly. It was painfully true - he missed Frank every second of the day. He should have been thrilled to hear he was going to be with him before the day was through, but instead there was nothing but more nauseating guilt growing in his stomach. 

“I’ll call you when I land.” Frank was trying to sound cheerful, but Gerard knew it was fake. “I love you Gee.” 

“I love you too, Frankie.” 

 

*

 

Gerard had missed Frank, he _knew_ he had missed him, and yet when he saw him strolling towards them from across the parking lot, it was like he really, _truly_ felt just how severe his pining for him had been.

“Oh God.” He choked out as the air was knocked from his lungs, just from the mere sight of Frank Iero, in tight black jeans and dark sunglasses, wearing a grin that spoke of real, honest-to-God joy. He was beautiful. The most beautiful man in the entire world and Gerard was completely and utterly weakened by him. 

“Heeey!” Frank opened his arms wide and stopped walking, bracing himself for impact as Ray, Mikey and Bob all raced to him at once. He disappeared within the press of their bodies, until only his high-pitched laughter could be heard. 

Gerard held back, heart racing and palms sweating, until the rough-housing was over and Frank broke away from the guys to approach him. 

“What? No sugar for me?” He asked playfully as he jogged to Gerard, rushing into his arms without any hesitation. 

Gerard wasn’t sure why it was a surprise. He had just sort of expected their greeting to be awkward; had expected Frank to approach him warily, like approaching a nervous dog. Or that he would be angry or cold. But instead, he was just… Frank. His beautiful, happy, wonderful Frankie who kissed him like he loved him, every single time.

“Hey.” Gerard was shaking uncontrollably, so overwhelmed with joy and fear and guilt and love. He wrapped Frank up in his arms and lifted him right up onto his tiptoes, squeezing him to his chest so he could press his kisses to Frank’s hair. 

He smelled wonderful, and not just because he was fresh and clean after his break from the tour. He was wearing the same cologne he always wore, the scent by now so familiar that it created an almost Pavlovian response in Gerard now - making his pulse quicken and his stomach fill with butterflies. 

“You look fucking terrible.” Frank pulled back to look at Gerard properly, his grin huge. He threaded his fingers into Gerard’s overgrown hair and wrinkled his nose up. “Styling yourself after Bert these days?”

It was an innocent question, and yet it made Gerard’s blood run cold. His eyes filled with fear, that he quickly tried to push down. Frank didn’t know. _Noone_ knew what was going on between him and Bert. Gerard himself wasn’t even really sure what was going on - he only knew that he intended for it to stop right away. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” He found his voice at last, but it came out cracked and weak. He was embarrassed to feel tears burning in his eyes, and he hurried to hide his face in Frank’s hair, breathing in the smell of him and holding onto him so tightly he could leave bruises. 

“Oh… Gee, I’ve missed you too.” Frank’s fingers burrowed deeper into Gerard’s hair so he could gently massage his scalp, whilst his other hand wrapped around his waist to rub at his lower back. He peppered kisses over every part of Gerard he could reach, trying to soothe him even as he filled with an odd sense of relief. A silly part of him had been afraid that Gerard would be unhappy to see him.

The two men held onto each other for what could have been a few minutes or all of eternity. When they at last pulled away it was only because Brian, The Used and a few of the friendlier roadies were all trying to welcome Frank back too.

Gerard stood back, smiling politely whilst everyone else had their chance to hug his boyfriend and welcome him back to the tour. It was clear that Frank was elated to be back on the road, and Gerard tried to focus on that and not on the way Bert’s eyes were burning into the back of his skull.

Gerard had told him, as soon as he had hung up the phone that morning, that their… whatever it was… was over. 

_”I can’t do this,” he had said as firmly as he could, “I should never have done this.”_

Bert had been surprisingly speechless, and his eyes had filled with tears that made Gerard feel like the worst human to have ever walked the Earth. 

_”But I love you Gee.”_

Bert’s final words to him had been weak and broken, and Gerard had left the hotel feeling sick to the stomach. He hated himself, and when he saw Bert smile and hug Frank then, he simply wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

 

*

 

“Fuck, been trying to get you alone for fucking ever-” Frank’s words were bitten off by Gerard’s hungry kiss, their hands knocking and getting in each other’s way as they both tried to divest the other of their clothes as quickly as possible.

“Been - mm - been trying-” Frank huffed and gave up on trying to speak, surrendering himself completely to the way Gerard’s tongue was sweeping into his mouth. It had been _months_ since Frank had kissed anyone (kissing your mother on the cheek does not count), and the familiar press of Gerard’s lips was making his cock throb. 

He’d been semi-erect basically all day, following Gerard around like a lost puppy, waiting for any opportunity that might give them just a few minutes alone together.

The opportunity had finally come just an hour before the show. Everyone was in the venue, getting ready in there as they always did. Gerard had announced that he’d forgotten his favourite eyeliner and trotted out of the dressing room to find it, and Frank had bolted after him without a word.

They were all adults, and he had no doubt that the guys knew what they were up to and would know better than to disturb them. So Frank hadn’t hesitated before backing Gerard onto the couch on the bus, where he had then sat in his lap and started to kiss him like it was their last night on Earth.

“Frankie,” Gerard pulled back from Frank’s lips and tipped his head back, moaning low in his throat when Frank immediately began to suck bruising kisses over his neck, “missed you so much - fuck…”

“Me too, Gee.” Frank scraped his teeth along Gerard’s jugular, kissing his way round to the long column of his throat. Gerard had flawless pale skin, and Frank sucked up a deep red mark just beneath his adams apple. It would be noticeable even on stage, for the kids in the front, and Frank shivered with pride. He wanted everyone to know that Gerard was getting his kicks and who he was getting them with.

“I’ve thought about you non-stop Gee.” Frank whispered, soothing the pain of the mark with a gentle swipe of his tongue. “I love you so much…”

Gerard moaned quietly again and arched up into Frank’s touch. He was softening beneath him, his hands just holding onto Frank now rather than trying to wrestle him out of his clothes. Each _I love you_ was like a bullet in his chest, the pain so agonising that he thought he could die from it. 

“Frankie I-”

“Shh…” Frank leaned up to quickly kiss Gerard silent, his hands starting to wriggle and press their way past the tight waistband of Gerard’s jeans. “Shh love, just let me…”

Gerard whined, torn between what he wanted and what he knew was right. His hips twitched up, seeking Frank’s touch, even as his heart ached and he yearned to tell him the truth.

How could he let Frank touch him with such reverence, when he had been soiled by the hands of another?

Gerard felt certain it must show; he felt filthy with it, like his skin must be covered in dirt. Each press of Frank’s lips and touch of their skin was contaminating him too, like Gerard’s infidelity had left him radioactive and now he was killing them both.

“Frankie… Frankie listen to me…” Gerard pleaded with him, but his insistence was marred by the pleasure that turned his pleas into groans. “Frankie, I have to tell you something.”

“After.” Frank hushed him again, his hands working to yank open Gerard’s jeans when they proved too tight for him to get inside any other way. “Fuck, Gee, I need you so bad right now, we can talk after.”

Gerard tried to protest, but Frank’s tattooed fingers wrapped firmly around his cock and his brain short-circuited. 

It had been so long since he and Frank had last touched each other like this, and Gerard’s body reacted no matter how much turmoil his mind was in. Frank knew just the right way to touch him, knew exactly how firmly to stroke him and when was the perfect moment to swipe his thumb over Gerard’s slick tip.

With time against them, Frank hurried to free his own erection through the fly of his jeans. He shifted forward, balancing on his knees until he could line their cocks up and hold them firmly between his hands. 

Frank tried a tentative thrust, and the moan that fell from his lips was enough to make Gerard’s cock twitch and leak another long string of precum down his shaft. 

“Oh fuck, Gee.” Frank tensed his buttocks and thrust carefully back and forth, working their lengths together in a hot, messy slide between his palms. They were both slick with preejaculate, and every throb of Gerard’s shaft was mirrored by Franks as they fed off each other’s pleasure.

Gerard arched up slightly and made soft, broken sounds in the base of his throat. He was beside himself already, so fired up by the familiar sensation of Frank’s body on his that he had no hope of holding out. He arched up, cupping the back of Frank’s neck in one hand and dragged him in for a deep, hungry kiss as his orgasm uncurled in his core.

Frank pressed his tongue into Gerard’s mouth, humping against him now like a horny teenager. Their moans were stifled by the kiss, so that the creaking of the couch springs seemed embarrassingly loud in comparison.

Frank came first, with a shout of Gerard’s name and then a punching inhale that made him arch his back. He shot his release all over them both, spilling over his fingers and spurting ropes of ejaculate over Gerard’s cock and the bottom of his t-shirt.

Gerard was soon to follow, tipped over by the knowledge that Frankie - _his_ Frankie - had found his pleasure in his body. It made Gerard dizzy with pride, and he wailed as he threw his head back and let go of the pressure that had built to a fever pitch inside him.

Frank watched with wide, glossy eyes, as Gerard came between them. He circled his fingers around his cockhead and twisted his hand gently to wring him out of every last drop. 

By the time Gerard was sagging back against the cushions, they were both dripping with cum, their clothes ruined. Frank had so much over his hands that he had to walk on shaking legs to the tiny kitchen sink and rinse them under the tap.

Gerard watched him, his gaze blurry, and for a while could do nothing but pant and get his brain back in gear. 

“Fuck, I needed that.” Frank grinned over his shoulder at Gerard, drying his hands on some paper towel. “We better get changed, we go on stage in thirty minutes.”

Gerard made a soft, non-committal sound to show he had heard and flopped his head back onto the cushion behind him. His whole body was thrumming with the afterglow of his orgasm, it’s sweetness tainted by his ever-present guilt. He couldn’t bear the thought of going on stage now. 

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Frank asked calmly, wetting some more paper towel and bringing it over to the sofa to clean Gerard up. 

Gerard’s body immediately tensed and the colour drained from his face until he looked ashen. 

“Gee?” Frank knelt at his side, frowning as he looked him over. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

Gerard felt sick too. He couldn’t tell Frank now, not when they were about to go on stage and perform together for the first time in months. 

“It’s nothing.” He croaked, shuddering as Frank cleaned the mess off his stomach with the paper towel. “I’ll tell you after the show.”

 

*

 

“Man, it feels so good to be back.” Frank smiled as he walked with Gerard around the back of the venue, swinging their linked hands between them. “I was so nervous about going on stage tonight, but then as soon as I started to play it was just… God, like coming home.” Frank squeezed Gerard’s fingers with his own and turned his head to grin at him. “Wasn’t it a great show?”

“Yeah, amazing.” Gerard agreed, but his voice came out raspy and apathetic. His palms were clammy from a nervous sweat, and his tongue felt too big for his mouth. “Frankie I… I really need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Frank lifted Gerard’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, pausing in their stride to turn and face him properly. His eyes were full of concern, but other than that he appeared calm. “Go ahead. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Gerard had been trying to brace himself for this moment from the second they left the stage. He had washed up and changed as quickly as he could, and had suggested to Frank that they take a walk together once it became clear that everyone else were intending to head straight back to the bus. 

The convoy of vehicles would be moving on to the next destination through the night, and Gerard knew he only had a short amount of time to get everything out into the open before they had to be back on the bus. It made his anxiety even more intense, but if he didn’t tell Frank now, then he wasn’t sure if he would ever have the courage to do it. 

“I owe you an apology, Frank.” Gerard swallowed thickly, trying to compose himself as Frank went on gazing at him so calmly, as if he already knew what he was going to say. “I… I’ve made a huge mistake.”

“It’s okay Gee.” Frank whispered, squeezing both of Gerard’s hands between his own. “Just say it.”

Gerard floundered, his heart racing so fast that it made him breathless. Did Frank already know? Had Bert told him?

“I…” Gerard shook his head, dazed from confusion. “I… I’ve been sleeping with Bert.” He blurted out. There was no point beating around the bush if Frank already knew. “I’m sorry Frankie.”

“Wait, you _what?_ ” Frank’s eyes went wide and the cartoon-esque shock all over his face filled Gerard with an icy dread. Clearly Frank hadn’t known after all. “What the fuck do you _mean?_ You’ve been sleeping with Bert!?”

“I - I thought you knew-” 

“Why the fuck would I _know_ Gerard!?” Frank hissed, releasing Gerard’s hands so suddenly it was like they’d been burned. “I thought you were going to tell me about your drug addiction - not that you’ve been _fucking_ Bert fucking _McCraken!_ ”

“Oh.” Gerard’s own eyes went wide then, his stomach dropping. His head swam and for a terrifying second he thought he might faint. He thought back to the way Frank had been looking at him, so calm and understanding, waiting for him to reveal whatever it was he needed to apologise for. “Oh fuck, I’m such an idiot-”

“An idiot?” Frank repeated, giving a sharp, bark-like laugh that was full of pain. “You’ve been fucking another man all this time and the best you have for me is _oh I’m an idiot?_ ” Frank mimicked spitefully. “What the _fuck_ Gerard? How long has this been going on for?”

Gerard took a small step back, fearful of the rage that was building up in Frank’s eyes. He had never seen pain and anger like it before, not in Frank. It terrified him to know that it was all his fault, and he had no idea what to say to make it better. 

“Gerard…” Frank growled, his eyes positively blazing as he closed the gap between them again, his jaw tense. “How. Fucking. Long?”

“I… I don’t know.” Gerard whispered, his voice gone pathetically high-pitched. “A… A couple of months? Or… Or something.”

“I’ve been gone for four months.” Frank snarled, grabbing Gerard suddenly by the shirt and yanking him in until their faces were almost touching. “How long did you wait after I’d gone huh?” He demanded, his whole body tense with rage. “How long did you wait until you took another man into your bed?”

“Frankie please.” Gerard whimpered, trying to tug out of his grip. “I… I don’t _know_. I’ve been such a mess - but it didn’t mean anything. It was just… Just a drunken thing.” 

“Oh well that’s fine then, right?” Frank snarled into Gerard’s face. “I guess if it’s just a drunken thing that doesn’t mean anything, then I have nothing to be upset about right?”

Gerard opened his mouth but quickly closed it again. He knew there was nothing he could say that was going to make any of this better. He wished he hadn’t even mentioned it at all. 

“I’m sorry Frank.” He eventually whispered, sagging against the tight ball of Frank’s fist on his chest. “I don’t know why I… It was just a mistake. I _love you_.”

“Fuck you.” Frank spat the words like poison, shoving Gerard bodily away from him as he did so. “I can’t believe this. I leave the tour to take care of my _sick mother_ , and you immediately start fucking someone else. You’re such a pathetic cliche Gerard Way.”

Frank turned to storm away, marching back to the buses in the distance. 

Gerard hesitated for just a moment before he jogged to catch up with him. 

“Frankie - Frankie please, we should talk-” He tried to beg, but Frank just waved a hand over his shoulder to silence him. He was striding along with such ferocity that even though his legs were much shorter than Gerard’s, he still couldn’t keep up.

When they got to the buses, Frank bypassed theirs and headed straight to The Used’s instead. He banged on the door with both fists, pounding on it until Jeph answered it with a stunned look on his face. 

“Frank? What’s going on?”

“Where the fuck is Bert?” Frank demanded, already trying to step up into the bus past Jeph. “Where is he!?”

“Frank?” Bert appeared behind Jeph, looking warily over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“You!” Frank shoved Jeph aside and stepped up onto the bus just long enough to seize Bert by the collar of his shirt. He dragged him outside with a hard yank, and the two of them stumbled a few feet away from the bus.

“Frankie! Frankie please-” Gerard jogged to close the distance between them, but Frank was already pulling his fist back, and Gerard made it to the pair of them just in time to get the front row view of Frank’s knuckles crunching into Bert’s jaw.

Immediately the air was full of shouting - of Gerard sobbing, begging Frank to stop; of Bert shouting for him to let him go, of Jeph yelling for help and of Brian, who was racing across the parking lot, shouting louder than anyone. 

“Frank! What the FUCK man!?”

“YOU SLEPT WITH MY BOYFRIEND!” Frank bellowed in Bert’s face, holding him up with both hands in his shirt now. “You fucking disgusting piece of _shit_ , as if it wasn’t bad enough that you’ve been feeding him all these pills, you’ve been fucking him too!?”

Bert’s eyes were wide and fearful, watering from the pain smarting in his jaw. He had gone grey, as had Gerard. 

From inside the buses both bands and various roadies appeared, but no one dared approach Frank and try to pull him away, especially not when he went on hollering about Gerard and Bert sleeping together. 

Gerard became aware that dozens of pairs of eyes had turned to stare at him and he began to shake with anxiety. He wrapped his arms around himself, unable to do anything but watch as Frank yelled at Bert.

“-I can’t believe I’ve been gone all this time, desperate to get back here and you two assholes have been-” Frank cut himself off, angry tears starting to race down his cheeks. He had his teeth clenched, and he was shaking Bert with such force it made his head wobble. “What? You not even got anything to say!? Why did you do it Bert!?” He all but screamed in his face. 

There was silence for just a moment, and then Bert answered, his voice soft and broken. “Because I love him.”

Frank went still, his mouth hanging open. He was breathing so hard, his chest was heaving, and for a moment no one was sure what was going to happen. The air hung with tension, balancing on a knife edge, until at last, Frank shoved Bert away. 

“Good. Then you can fucking have him.” He hissed, turning on his heel to storm away.

There was a moment where no one else moved, and then life returned to everyone at once. 

Gerard fought to make his way to Frank, but Mikey and Ray were in his way and it felt as though a million questions were being fired at him at once. 

Bert was being held up by Jeph, sobbing openly. His wide, blue eyes were drilling holes into Gerard, silently pleading with him.

“Let me go.” Gerard whimpered, never taking his eyes from Frank who was shoving his way past the crowds to stride away. “Please, let me go to Frank. I need to get to Frank.”

“You need to tell us what the fuck has been going on.” Mikey argued, pushing against Gerard’s shoulders to stop him from getting by. “Is it true? Have you and Bert been..?”

“I need to get to Frank.” Gerard repeated, as hollow and automatic as a robot. “Let me go to Frank.”

“Just let him go Mikes.” Ray placed a gentle hand over Mikey’s and eased him aside so Gerard could pass.

Mikey looked furious, but he obediently stepped to the left and watched with a deep scowl as Gerard began to run after Frank.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brian was wandering about like a lost sheep, his hands in his hair. “This tour is a bleeding nightmare.”

Everyone stared as Gerard ran across the parking lot, chasing Frank and finally catching up to him just before the road. He reached out, trying to grab his hand but when Frank felt him he whirled around and pushed him away. 

“Leave me ALONE Gerard!” He snarled, his eyes so full of pain that they burned a hole into Gerard’s heart. “Go back to Bert!”

“No, Frankie please-” Gerard reached out again and sobbed when Frank smacked his hand away, so sharply that it created a loud _clap_ in the night air. 

“I swear to God Gerard, I _swear_ , if you don’t fucking leave me alone right now then I am done.” Frank was backing away, holding his hands up as if to protect himself. He was trembling from head to toe, so much that even his voice wavered. “And I don’t just mean that _we_ are done, I mean that _I_ am done - with all of it. The tour, the _band_ , everything.” Frank was shaking his head, trying to force his tears away whilst he was facing Gerard.

“Frankie please,” Gerard whimpered, trying to follow him though slower now, “you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” Frank snapped, moving faster now, walking precariously backwards across the uneven ground. “I’m telling you Gerard, if you don’t want me to get on the first flight out of here then you will back off _right now_. Or I am _out_ , and I will not come back.”

Gerard couldn’t believe that Frank would really do that; surely there was no way he would ever give up on the band. But Gerard couldn’t risk it. He had already fucked up so much, if Frank ended up quitting too, then he wasn’t sure how any of them would cope. 

“Okay.” He whispered, coming to a stop, though it went against everything in him. “Okay… I’ll leave you alone. Just.. Just come back to the bus, _please_.”

“I need a moment.” Frank was still backing away, still shaking his head. “Don’t follow me.” 

Frank turned then and darted away, jogging down the main road to God only knew where. 

Gerard took an instinctive step forward but then stopped himself, one arm outstretched, fingers reaching for Frank, but he was gone.

 

*

 

“The tour is almost over, just keep out of each other’s ways and be professional.” Was Brian’s helpful advice when the mood on tour inevitably soured.

It wasn’t that the two bands no longer got along as such… more that Gerard and Bert were disliked by everyone, and Frank hated the entirety of The Used even though they had been oblivious to Bert’s indescretion, and Gerard and Frank were only ever within ten feet of each other when they took to the stage each night.

For the most part Gerard was trying to keep to himself. Everyone was angry at him, including himself, and he couldn’t stomach one more lecture about what an idiot he had been. He _knew_ he had been an idiot, and what made it worse was that he hadn’t just hurt Frank, but Bert as well.

He had taken to hiding in his bunk whenever they were in the bus, and then drinking unearthly amounts just to find the courage to get on stage every night.

He had tried to talk to Frank a couple of times in the past week or two, when he was drunk enough to attempt it; but Frank was prone to bursts of temper and only got angry whenever Gerard so much as approached him.

So Gerard kept to himself… and drank. And Drank… And drank, and drank, and drank.

The days began to blur into one, and Gerard could barely remember the shows they played. He was numb to it all. Brian tried to talk to him, warned him that he was going to end up killing himself, but Gerard didn’t care anymore.

Bert tried to talk to him as well, but when Frank saw them stood together he went into such a rage that he punched a dent into the tour bus door… So Brian had told Gerard to keep away from Bert, or he’d have no choice but to end the tour early.

Frankly, Brian was tempted to end the tour early anyway. The man was sure he had a stomach ulcer just from the stress. 

In the end, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, he booked them hotel rooms for the final three nights of the tour. “That way, you can all have your own space and keep out of each other’s ways.” He had said simply, refusing to hear a single word of protest (not that anyone complained, of course).

It was all a bit hazy to Gerard by then, who couldn’t remember the last time he had been sober. 

He made his way to his hotel room alone, dragging his backpack along in one hand, and drinking from a bottle with the other.

He was too drunk to think much about it when he found Bert waiting outside his room, leaning against the door. When he saw Gerard he smiled, but it was forced and uncomfortable, his blue eyes sad. 

“Hey… I wondered if we could talk?” He pushed himself off the door and waited for Gerard to unlock it. It took him a while - he kept missing the lock and scraping the key across the wood of the door - but eventually he managed it. 

“I don’t wanna talk. I wanna sleep.” Gerard shouldered the door open and stumbled inside, dropping his bag and almost tripping over it. 

Bert followed him inside, his eyebrows pulled into a worried frown. He shoved his hands beneath Gerard’s arms and hoisted him back upright, helping him to the bed in an awkward penguin shuffle. When they made it to the bed, he dropped Gerard down on top of the covers and waited for him to roll onto his back so he could look at him. 

“Gee, I’m worried about you.” He said simply, sitting down on the edge of the bed and turning to face him. “Everyone’s worried about you. All this drinking, it needs to stop.” Bert took the bottle that was somehow still in Gerard’s hand and put it down on the bedside table. “Please, you have to listen to me.”

“Why should I?” Gerard laughed mirthlessly, his voice slurred so much he sounded as if he’d had a stroke. “You ruined everything.”

“Me?” Bert looked wounded, but not really surprised. “I take responsibility for what I did Gerard. But it takes two to tango, and you have to face up to what you did too.”

Gerard grimaced and shook his head, laying a hand over his eyes. Now he was lying down, the room was spinning uncontrollably, making bile rise in his throat. 

“I know what we did wasn’t good,” Bert was still talking, apparently oblivious to Gerard’s discomfort, “and obviously I knew that you and Frank were together but I… I just couldn’t help myself Gee. We have such a connection, the two of us, and I _know_ that you feel it too-” Bert reached out to take Gerard’s hand, but when he touched him, Gerard promptly rolled onto his side and threw up all over the bed. 

Bert jumped back with a shout of horror, staring in disgust as Gerard hung off the edge of the bed and heaved up another wave of sour liquid that splashed onto the floor. 

“Fucking hell Gerard.” Bert ran a hand through his hair, his face pale. “You’re a mess.” 

Gerard didn’t hear him. He was still heaving, so violently that he could barely get a breath in. He looked like he was choking, and Bert panicked. He turned and fled from the room, racing into the corridor beyond and began to knock on the nearest door. 

“Hello - Hello help! I need help, someone’s choking-” Bert fell silent abruptly, the moment Frank answered the door. 

Frank stared at Bert for a heartbeat, and then he pushed past him, striding rapidly into Gerard’s room.

Bert paused, his hands shaking. He started after Frank, changed his mind and turned to leave. But then halfway down the corridor he groaned and turned back again, walking timidly back to Gerard’s room and heading inside. 

The smell of vomit was so strong that Bert had to lift his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, but Frank was perfectly composed. He was sat on the clean side of the bed, holding Gerard’s hair back and rubbing his back gently as he coughed and spat the last of the bile from his mouth.

Frank glanced up at Bert’s arrival and glared at him. 

“If you’re not going to make yourself useful, then get out.”

Bert wanted to help. He really did. But he didn’t know how, and Frank was looking at him with such fierceness that he couldn’t bear to stay. 

He turned and left.

 

*

 

When Gerard woke the next morning, the bed was perfectly clean. There was an awful stain on the carpet, but that too had clearly been scrubbed and there was no lingering smell of vomit. The window was open to let in a cool breeze, and Gerard himself was dressed in his favourite batman shirt and a clean pair of underwear. His hair was just a touch damp, and smelled sort of floral. Someone had washed it. 

Gerard squinted in the half-light of the room, dim, but harsh enough to make his headache worse, and rolled slowly along the bed to find his phone on the bedside locker.

On top of the screen was a handwritten note.

_The hotel have been paid for the ruined sheets, we’ve assured them you won’t throw up again so try to make it to the toilet next time. Aspirin, OJ and PB &J on the dresser. Take them. Drink it. Eat it. And do us all a favour and don’t get fucking wasted today._

There was no name on the note, but Gerard knew Frank’s handwriting as well as his own. It made his chest squeeze painfully, and brought guilty tears to his eyes. It was hardly a love letter, but Gerard lifted the note and pressed it to his lips as if it were the most beautiful sonnet he had ever read.

Gerard had no desire to drink the orange juice, and he wanted the sandwich even less; but the instructions were from Frank, and his desire to do as he said was stronger than anything.

It still took Gerard another hour of drifting in and out of sleep before he was able to drag himself out of bed. He was so nauseous that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep the food down. He took the aspirin first, and then waited a while before attempting a bite of the sandwich. 

It took him a while, but by taking small bites spaced minutes apart, and equally slow sips of the orange, he was able to consume it all and not throw it back up again.

It was hardly the most successful thing he had ever done in his life, but right then, it felt like the biggest win of the tour so far.

 

*

 

If Gerard had hoped to see Frank after the note, he was to be sorely disappointed.

The day went by like any other, with everyone keeping to themselves. Gerard tried not to drink, but he had spent too long being constantly drunk for his body to handle being sober. He sipped miserably at beer, trying to keep himself just intoxicated enough to stop the terrible shaking, but not so drunk that he was incomprehensible.

By the time the show that night came round, Gerard felt like throwing up again just from nerves. He hated that initial walk onto the stage, and it was harder than ever now when everyone was avoiding him.

He looked longingly at a bottle of vodka that had been left back stage, and then at the hall that led to the dressing rooms. He wasn’t sure he had the courage to try and approach the band, but somehow he found himself doing it anyway, following his feet before he could change his mind.

The dressing room door was open, and Gerard could see Mikey, Ray and Bob inside. When they spotted him, they fell silent, watching his approach warily. 

“H - Hey.” Gerard poked his head round the door, scanning the room. “Where’s Frank?”

“He said he doesn’t want to talk to you.” Ray sounded apologetic when he spoke, his expression soft and miserable. “He said he’ll see us on stage.”

Gerard opened his mouth, but found that there was nothing to say. He pursed his lips, biting back tears and nodded. 

“Oh… Okay. I guess I’ll see you out there then.” He hesitated a moment, and then turned to leave. 

He made it halfway back down the corridor before a hand touched his own, and he turned just in time to be folded into Mikey’s arms. His younger brother was a head taller than him, and so Gerard automatically hid his face into Mikey’s chest. 

“Come and sit with us?” Mikey asked softly, laying a kiss to Gerard’s hair. “You’re a mess, but we still love you.”

Gerard was surprised by the sob that rose in his throat, completely unhindered. He wrapped his arms around Mikey’s waist and held on tight, shivering violently as a million emotions ploughed through him all at once. He hadn’t realised how terribly lonely he was, until he was being held once again by someone he loved.

“Mikey…” He whimpered, hiding his tears in Mikey’s shirt. “I’ve fucked up…”

“I know.” Mikey shrugged, smiling weakly. “But we can fix it.”

It seemed an impossible thing to offer, but Gerard didn’t care. At the very least, the promise of being accepted back into his circle of friends was enough incentive for him to let Mikey pull him along into the dressing room, and replace his bottle of beer for one of water.

 

*

 

After the show that night, Frank disappeared back to his hotel room before Gerard had chance to reach him. Gerard headed back to the hotel slowly, trying to summon up the courage to knock on Frank’s door once he got there, but to his dismay he found Bert waiting for him in the corridor. 

“Bert, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.” Bert was once again leaning against Gerard’s room door, his hair damp and tasseled from the stage. He looked so exhausted, and Gerard felt a painful smack of guilt in his stomach. 

It seemed cruel to refuse, so he simply nodded and unlocked the door to his room, letting Bert inside. 

“You want something to drink?” Gerard headed straight to the mini-bar, and picked out a small bottle of vodka when Bert asked for it. He handed it to him, but didn’t join him on the bed. Instead he crossed to the window and lit a cigarette. 

“It’s good to see you looking a little better.” Bert tried to smile, but it looked pained. “I noticed you weren’t drinking as much today.”

Gerard sucked in a lungful of smoke and didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say. 

“Gee…” Bert hesitated, inhaled deeply, and started again. “I know that what we did was… I know we messed up. But I meant what I said, about being in love with you.” He waited, but Gerard didn’t so much as turn to face him.

“The chemistry that we have… I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” Bert got to his feet, but didn’t try to cross the room at first. “You make me feel so alive Gee. When we’re together, I feel like I can take on the world. It’s better than any drug, you’re like my own personal high.”

“Please don’t say that.” Gerard grimaced and shook his head, making Bert’s playful smile fall. 

“I was only joking-”

“Well don’t.” Gerard flicked some ash out of the window and turned, holding his hand out for the vodka bottle.

Bert hurried to bring it to him, smiling hopefully as their fingers brushed. 

“You know…. When we were sleeping together I kind of thought… I kind of thought you maybe loved me too…” He waited, his eyes full of nervous anticipation. “It didn’t feel like it was just sex.” Bert edged a little closer, daring to reach out and brush his fingers along Gerard’s arm. “I didn’t think you were the type of guy who just went out looking for sex.”

“I’m not that type of guy.” Gerard spoke defensively, swallowing a mouthful of vodka that burned on it’s way down. He _wasn’t_ that type of guy, but then what did that mean about what he had done? Did he love Bert? He had sort of thought so, when Frank wasn’t around and the booze and pills made it hard to think.

“Gee?” Bert’s fingers made a path round the back of Gerard’s bicep and then onto his back. He stepped behind him, moving in close until his chest touched Gerard’s spine, and he could brush his nose through his hair. “It wasn’t just sex, was it?” He asked softly, both hands coming to stroke tenderly down Gerard’s sides now. “It did mean something, didn’t it?”

Gerard closed his eyes, smoking his cigarette greedily as he tried to make sense of everything. His mind was in a spin, and he couldn’t think straight as it was, let alone with Bert crowding against him. It reminded him of waking up in bed beside him, of feeling his erection in the curve of his backside… He remembered Bert’s hands all over him, his lips on his neck…

They were on his neck now, kissing ever so delicately. 

“You and me, we’re meant to be Gee…” Bert whispered, pulling Gerard back against him by the hips. “I love you so much, I want to take care of you.”

It was such a sweet promise… Something Gerard wanted, dearly. Everything had been so confused recently. He was losing himself in a chemical pit, and he couldn’t get out. He needed help. He needed to be taken care of. Could Bert be that person? 

“Bert I…” Gerard hesitated. He turned to stub his cigarette out against the outside wall and then toss it out to the street below, trying to buy himself time to think. “Bert, I don’t know what I want.”

“I think this knows what you want…” Bert slid a hand round to cup between Gerard’s legs. He flexed his fingers, finding the shape of his cock in his jeans. He wasn’t remotely hard, but Bert was undeterred. He knew how to get Gerard going.

Gerard faced forward with cool, emotionless eyes as Bert palmed at him, trying to arouse him. It wasn’t working, which was sort of a change. 

“Come on Gee,” Bert whispered into his ear, kissing more firmly down his neck now. “You always get hard for me.”

Gerard squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He rolled his shoulders to push Bert away gently, and then stepped forward out of his hold. 

“I used to get hard for you.” He sighed, adjusting his clothes and trying to ignore the grimy feeling on his skin. “But I go weak for Frank.”

He turned and saw that Bert was looking crestfallen, his face flickering between pain and astonishment. Gerard’s instinct was to apologise and to try and make it all better, but he forced himself to be strong. 

“He knows me better than anyone.” Gerard sighed, smiling faintly. “I love him.”

Bert looked like he’d been shot, and tears began to well in his eyes. 

“But I love you.” He whispered, hands hanging uselessly at his sides now. “I don’t want to be without you Gee.”

 

Gerard sighed heavily, but no amount of guilt was enough to make him crumble now. 

“I think… You should leave.” He said slowly. 

When Bert didn’t respond, Gerard headed to the door himself and held it open for him. He looked at Bert, waiting patiently, and in the end there was nothing more that could be said.

Bert walked miserably passed him, gave him one last lingering look, and then disappeared into the hallway beyond.

Frank watched him from his bedroom door, then glanced over at Gerard. Their eyes met, but only for a second, and then Frank disappeared back inside his room.

 

*

 

Gerard smiled softly as the woman looked him up and down, her lips quirking into a smile. 

“Nice jeans.” She commented, one eyebrow arching delicately in a clear indication of interest.

Gerard smiled politely back and mumbled a soft ‘thank you’. 

“Frank bought them for me.” He explained, looking down at the dark blue denim that could have been painted on it was so tight. 

“Who’s Frank?” The woman asked with interest, but Gerard just sighed and shook his head. 

“Just… someone I knew.” He leaned over the counter and scrawled his name on the form, and then accepted the coin he was given in return. “Thanks.”

“Make good choices out there.” The woman flashed him a cheeky grin, but Gerard just raised his hand in a mock salute and traipsed out of rehab alone.

He hadn’t been expecting anyone to come and collect him, not _really_ , but it was still a little soul destroying to step outside and find the neat front courtyard completely empty. He had half believed Mikey would be there, even though he had called just the day before to apologise that he wouldn’t be able to. After such a hellish tour, everyone was busy conquering their own demons, and Gerard wouldn’t allow himself to get upset at having to make his way home alone.

He looked down at the golden coin in his hands and turned it slowly over and over between his fingers.

_Thirty Days_ , it declared proudly. 

Such a small number, really, but for Gerard it had felt like a lifetime. It had been an eternity of white walls, therapy, group hugs and unbearable detox. But now he was officially clean, and he intended to stay that way for the rest of his life.

“Fancy a drink?” 

Gerard flinched at the words, and turned timidly to find the source of the offer. He couldn’t see anyone at first, but then a man stepped out of the trees, clad in a familiar denim jacket and dark aviator sunglasses. 

“Frank?” Gerard’s stomach dropped violently and then soared just as quickly, giving him a bizarre sensation of internal whiplash. “What are you doing hiding in the trees?”

“I wanted to make sure Bert wasn’t going to be here.” Frank lifted his glasses on top of his head and came to a halt a few feet in front of Gerard. He was smiling softly, and when he looked him over his eyes went bright and warm. “You look good.”

Gerard’s head swam, and his fingers twitched around the coin in his hand. 

“Thanks… So do you.” He didn’t bother commenting on the Bert remark. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Bert, and least of all to Frank. 

“So how about that drink?” Frank gestured with his head, as if to indicate a nearby bar. Gerard’s stomach turned again. 

“No thanks.” He went to keep on walking, even though walking away from Frank made his heart tear into pieces. 

“No?” Frank fell into step beside Gerard, one hand coming out to brush against his knuckles. “Not even a coffee?”

Gerard hesitated a moment and then stopped, turning to look at Frank with a mixture of desire and scepticism. 

“Coffee?” He repeated, frowning to himself, as if he wasn’t sure if Frank meant it. 

“I think we need to talk.” Frank looked up at Gerard, and his eyes for once weren’t full of rage. “I’ve had a lot of time to think and… I don’t know if I’m ready to be in a relationship again. But I _am_ ready to talk. And… Even if we only ever be friends, I want you in my life.”

Gerard felt a rush of tears burning in his eyes and he struggled to swallow the lump that swelled in his throat. He sniffled pathetically, and took a moment to clear his throat and find his voice. 

“A… A coffee would be nice.” He at last managed to squeak, his voice wavering and cracked. “I’d like that.” 

Frank smiled and before he could stop himself he tiptoed up and pulled Gerard into his arms. He held him tight, tangling one hand into his hair and brushing his nose along his jaw. Gerard smelt like expensive soap and cigarettes, and Frank could feel himself tumbling hopelessly in love with him all over again. 

“Sometimes I think to myself… You’re the biggest mistake in my life.” He whispered, making Gerard flinch against his shoulder. “But as long as you’re _my_ mistake, and I’m _yours_ , and no one fucking elses… Then… Maybe I can work with that.”

A surprised laugh burst from Gerard’s chest, mingling with his tears.

“I swear to you Frank, there’ll never be anyone else again. Only you. Even if we’re only ever friends, I’ll never love again-”

“Alright, alright.” Frank pulled back and laid a finger over Gerard’s lips with a fond smile. “Enough of that. Lemme see that coin.”

Gerard was confused for a moment, but then he jumped into action and offered his thirty day coin to Frank. He watched him turn it over in his hands, examining every detail. When he looked back at Gerard, his eyes were full of warmth. 

“I’m proud of you.” He said simply, and those words were so full of love that they took Gerard’s breath away. “And to celebrate… I’ll even buy you a donut.”

Gerard grinned and eagerly accepted the hand that Frank pushed into his own, their fingers lacing as they walked side by side down the street.


End file.
